Lucky Me
by DaPinkSquirrel
Summary: It's Witches, it's Hogwarts, but it's a whole other perspective! Meet all-american, spunky "Lucky" Keefer, and her whole new life at Hogwarts!
1. Default Chapter

Lucky. Lucky Keefer. What a curse of a name. I thought that very thought as I learned my parent's newest predicament created especially pour moi. My hazel eyes bore into my mother's head, giving her the worst glare I could muster. I swear she felt them too, because she squinted her eyes shut and rubbed her forehead in her general show of anxiety. Mission accomplished. No wait, I still had this stupid "moving" ordeal to handle. Yeah, that's right. Lucky Jessica Keefer was being forced to move. No, Lucky is not a nickname. It is not an adjective in this case. It is actually, truly, my own curse of a name.  
  
Of course, as a child, Lucky was a cute, pretty name. It was unique. But uniqueness doesn't fly when you're newly twelve years old, on the brink of the teenage world and getting a real life. I was "Lucky" the cursed girl with plain straight brown hair, a freckly face, and a height problem. And now, a move to who knows where. Like I needed this right now! I had just turned twelve two days ago and I was about to attend the Salem School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Okay, not officially yet, but the letters were coming out any second now and I was just sure to get one. Really. My mom and dad are both Oregon natives that attended Salem, and they came out of there with honors and awards and all that jazz. They would just be crazy to overlook me. I thought this too as I turned my Death Gaze on Dad. But he was stronger than that. My screaming and pouting over the past half hour looked as if they had no affect on him yet. Crap. I folded my arms, fully aware of how childish I was acting, and put on another pout.  
  
He sighed and pushed his small silver spectacles up his long, sharp nose. With that, his thinning mousy brown hair and tweed business suit, he looked like quite a convincing Muggle. Now the stress lines in his damp forehead made him look pure Muggle. I was impressed.  
  
"Lucky. I really do not need you acting like this right now. You could not possibly understand the circumstances in this decision. We have to do this for the family..."  
  
I drifted off; the last thing I wanted to hear was my dad's mumbo jumbo as he squirmed, trying to provide excuses for ruining my life. Do this for the family? Some family. My little sister, Melody, our spaz-out psycho cat, my incapable, nervous-breakdown mother, and a frail, but shrewd businessman known as Jack Ian Keefer. I glanced at my mother, who had stopped squinting miserably long enough to try to join my father's tirade by murmuring encouraging phrases like she knew exactly what Dad was talking about. Her blue eyes flitted around, searching the room for something; probably an escape from this boiling hell Dad was creating. Her round cheeks were flushed and blotchy from her nervousness and her kept attempting to smooth her wrinkled mille fleur blouse on her dumpy body. No mistake, I loved my Mom and Dad, but I had not reason to like them now. Or for a while.  
  
Melody sat just on my left, her wavy, flashy red hair in a high, preppy ponytail. Her earnest blue eyes matched my mother's, except they were rid of constant worries and full of child-like dreams. Melody had no idea what was going on. Sure, we were moving, but her eight-year-old mind could not possibly fathom the wreck this was going to make of our lives. New house, friends, life. A new beginning that I am honestly too lazy and hopeless to try. But of course Melody had not reason to be worried. She had definitely inherited everything Mom had to offer; good hair, pretty face, good teeth, tall...it didn't end there. Melody was naturally outgoing, sweet and tolerable. In other words, Melody was sickening. And she's my little sister. Who ever called me Lucky has better reconsider this.  
  
"...And with my new job, it just requires me to be present there, I couldn't possibly pass up this offer from the Ministry Headquarters." My senses perked at this. A new job, with the Ministry Headquarters? The big guys? I must say, as reluctant as I was to show it, I wanted to know a bit about this move now. I didn't want to move, but it didn't hurt to know what might have happened. I leaned over the table. "Dad, you got a new job with the Ministry?" I asked, focusing my muddy eyes on his face.  
  
"Oh yes," my Mom practically jumped at the chance to talk about a field she could understand now, to contribute her part to this torturing conversation. "Yes dear, your father has landed a job with the International Wizardry Communications Department!" my dad grinned proudly and patted my mother on the back like a good ol' happy couple on TV. "You see Lucky, I'll get more money this way, it'll be a definite promotion in my business track," my Mom was nodding so vigorously that I was afraid her head would pop off. "I could not possibly accept without moving to accommodate my new job and business partners." He nodded, willing me to understand and stop being such a problem child. But I, Lucky Jessica Keefer, am just not that easy. There was still one huge problem that needed covering.  
  
"And my school? Salem School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" I added, as if they needed reminding. "What about THAT?"  
  
"Oh, Luc, that's already taken care of!" My dad looked surprised, as if this totally IMportant fact had just "slipped" his mind. I waited impatiently, already bugged thoroughly by my parents' earnest nature. "Luc, you won't believe what comes with my job, You see, as working at such an honored position in this Ministry Department," at this he turned to my mother and each of them flashed shmarmy sweet smiles. Ugh. "And with my need to perhaps, "be on the move" as you might say, my children are automatically accepted to the wizarding schools in the areas which I am serving. This is on the condition of course, that you were already to be attending a wizarding school." He whispered and winked, as if he was sharing a special secret that would make me forgive him because of it's value. Hmph. Like I never knew that I would go to Salem. But I was interested.  
  
"Honi, you just wouldn't believe!" my Mom threw her hands in the air, as if trying to express that this was just the biggest thing since sliced bread. "This school, it is just the bee's knees! It's even better than Salem, why, your Pa and I would have been honored to attend Hogwarts, and we are just ecstatic that our babies will get to go there."  
  
"Hogwarts?" I scoffed. What kind of name was THAT? It couldn't possibly be better than Salem. Salem was my home, where I was meant to go. Obviously, Mom and dad were just trying to butter this place up for me. I wasn't going to buy it. I folded my arms again. Never mind I had heard about this place from Bee, my best friend and witch-freak. She always chatted on about the international this and that of our world. She should have been Jack Ian Keefer's daughter. Lucky me. I tried to pull back in my memory on what she had said about it. Good quidditch team, I recall. She always blabbed about that darned sport. I honestly was pretty much disinterested in it. Besides, just because a school has a good quidditch team doesn't mean they pass in MY book. They could be isolated communists somewhere in Siberia that don't know how to spell, just how to throw around freakin' bludgers. Which reminded me...where IS Hogwarts? Where AM I living? The thought had not crossed my mind before, being as I was just trying to get out of the whole darned moving thing all together. But suddenly, the isolated Siberian communists seemed all too real. I felt sick to my stomach.  
  
"Mom, Dad!" I interrupted there long-winded praise of this "heavenly" Hogwarts place. "Where IS Hogwarts? Where IS the Ministry??"  
  
My Dad looked confused and shocked that I did not know. "Lucky, Hogwarts is in Great Britain. We're moving to London!"  
  
Isn't this the part where I faint? 


	2. The London Journey

Bee, full name Bridget Higgins, was not at all sympathetic to my dire state. My supposed best friend shrieked on the other end of the phone line, and it wasn't in agony.  
  
"Hogwarts! That's SUPER! What awesome news!" she was about to babble on like this for God knows how long. I had to put an end to the madness.  
  
"Bee! God Da-"I stopped myself from uttering what was on my lips as my father's creaking footsteps warily paced the floor outside my bedroom door. "-Gosh darnit Bee, don't you realize? I'm moving. Doesn't that mean ANYthing to you? My life is gonna change! I don't CARE how cool Hogwarts is!" I gritted my teeth with frustration. Bee was not playing the role of comforting best friend very well. I was just about to hang up and forget the whole thing, thinking maybe new friends is what I need, when Bee redeemed herself.  
  
"Of course, Luc, I know it sucks. You've been my best friend since, whaa, 1st grade?? I can't imagine things without you. It's just good to know my best friend will be enjoying herself in such a rad place!" she said, her voice vibrating in the phone at a high pitch, with the occasional squeak. I wondered if this was sadness or excitement in her voice, and what her reason for using "rad" was. Sigh. "Thanks Bee. I just hope it's as good as you make it sound. It sounds like a dream place in your words." I could almost see Bee grin as I said that.  
  
"Hogwarts is hot stuff. I'm honestly very jealous of you, so you know you hafta write like, a million times. Tell me everything while I'm back here dragging through Salem!" I grinned. Bee was the last person to "drag" through anything, the ultimate over-achiever she was. But I felt special for her to make an attempt for me.  
  
"Bee, I won't have any other friends there, so yeah, expect 2 million letters. Though my hand might get tired." I added. I still couldn't believe that this place didn't have e-mail, or anything else technology related for that matter. It was one of the many facts Bee had related to me in the past hour about the wonders of Hogwarts. I mused over whether Salem had computers are other "Muggle" crap and what not, but I realized, being a Wizarding school, it was the exact last thing to be on the premises. Maybe I wasn't missing much traveling over the Atlantic Ocean to live in a castle with Brits. Bee seemed to catch my thought train. "Ya know, I just love the accents. You'll love the accents. I've always wanted one. It'll be fun, I hear they are pretty funny over there." I laughed at Bee's honest stereotype, catching my bitter distaste for my new move starting to fade. Bee really did work charms on me. I shook my head to myself and tears pricked my eyes. I'm not an emotional girl, you might have noticed, and I surprised myself when it happened. I'm already missing it and I haven't even left! I thought, my bitterness returning full-fledged and ready for more battle.  
  
And just in time.  
  
"Luc, baby?" My Mom's voice sang sugary-fakey sweet from the other side of the door. Oh, now she wants to place perfect house mom, does she? I though as I rolled my eyes. "Gotta go, Bee. Yeah, it's my Mom." I hung up reluctantly and opened my door, ready to face what my Mom threw at me.  
  
Her face lit up as I met her in the doorway, as if I were her new birthday gift. "Oh, we are going to have fun! Hogwarts has already sent out a supplies list, you see, you are a bit late on the roster but all is well," she zinged her hands through the air to emphasize this. "All is well! We just have to get you the supplies, the books, and the robes!" her face was like a child's on Christmas and I did not dare ruin her fun. Nod. So far I was holding up well. She clasped her hands together. "Robes for Hogwarts, they must be formal, dear!" her hands had fought their way out of their clasp and were now dancing and flying dangerously through the air to express her words. "They are just fancy there. We'll have a blast finding you some hot clothes for your stay. What's your favorite color again? Yellow?" I cringed at her attempted use of "cool lingo" and fumed at her mistaking Melody's favorite color for mine. Besides, how are robes supposed to look "hot?" No words yet though.  
  
"Oh yes!" one of her hyperactive hands flew to her mouth in excitement. "Oh yes, and you must know about the Houses you are sorted into! Similar system to Salem, it is quite jazzy!" she was bouncing with positive energy and I could hardly stand it any longer. My blood was boiling. I attempted to make a hole in the floor with my toe as I spoke. "My favorite color is blue. Whatever about the robes, I don't care." I was ready to go to bed and act like this whole thing was just a joke, I would wake up tomorrow to my acceptance at Salem and then I would go celebrate with Bee and act like I normally do. But Mom had other things in mind. I yawned impatiently, hoping she got the hint. My Mom isn't the kind of woman to take a hint, even ones as blatant as my own. "All right Ma, I'll go to bed now, we can talk about it in the morning, buy 'em later." I turned to escape to my plush, comfortable bed, but she really just wasn't done yet!  
  
"But Luc, you don't understand." Her hands had taken a deserved break and were now resting on voluptuous hips. "We really are behind, other students have gone and bought supplies, chosen wands, got their pets in order, their wardrobe..." she babbled. Honestly, she was doing a lot of that recently.  
  
"Your point IS? I'm tired. I don't care what the British wizards are doing right now, this American one is going to bed." For the first time tonight my mother actually looked like she had had enough of me. I wondered if I had pushed her too far, until she spoke again.  
  
"No Luc, we have to do what "The British Wizards" are doing. They start school in a matter of weeks. You don't have time to dawdle here and wait for the moving and such!" What, you suggest we escape into the night? I considered saying this, but my mother was tired too and it wasn't by far the smartest move.  
  
"You need to get to London soon. You and your father will leave this Thursday, we found a great deal for tickets. You will only be in London 2 weeks, staying with Aunt Peggy and Uncle Mitchell, you remember them, with Lydia, that cousin? That'll be time for you to get everything in order for school, and your Dad will be able to get a head start for work. Your sister and I will follow up with the luggage and all a few weeks later, you'll be at school by then. I suggest packing a jacket, it's always damp there." This whole speech was so absurd, my body would have laughed but my mind was to exhausted and confused.  
  
"But Thursday...that's four days away" I said numbly.  
  
"Yes sweetie, have everything in order by then, will you? Pack lightly, you'll get plenty of school clothes while you're there." She kissed me on the forehead as an end to the statement and the conversation, and left me with a "Good night sweetie".  
  
It all happened so fast that I didn't believe what was going on. I lay on my bed, totally abject from sleep now as I lay wide-eyed, staring at the ugly white ceiling. Four days...four days and I'll probably never seen Salem, Bee, or the West Coast again. Four days and I'll be in Great Britain. I closed my eyes. These kind of absurd and wild plots only happen to movie stars in cheesy Disney movies. So why was it happening to me, Lucky Keefer? Did Lucky ever have luck in the first place?  
  
Apparently not.  
  
After the news was broken to Bee, we cried, we reminisced over past memories, we contemplated become national quidditch stars so we could meet up again at some championship. It wasn't going to work. We both realized this as we hugged goodbye, probably giving each other broken bones to remember the other, we hugged so hard. She saw me to the airport, along with my family.  
  
I had never been on an airplane before. I suppose that requires little flyer's wings and extra peanuts, but I didn't get any. Big disappointment. I was in the midst of contemplating whether my future in England would be a big disappointment as well when a flight attendant with a permanently pasted white smile on bent down to ask me if I would rather have the Chicken Parmesan or the Filet Mignon. I said I would rather have real food, and oh yeah, does it hurt to smile like that?  
  
I got in trouble with Dad and I got Chicken Parmesan. Things aren't looking up in the "Lucky World".  
  
And I had a feeling things weren't going to. I looked out the window, where another first-time flyer's disappointment hit me. We weren't sailing through marshmallow white clouds. The sky was gray and dismal, like my life right now. I had heard this is what London looks like. Refusing to look out the window any longer, I tried to see the movie, which was impossible to accomplish. So I was left with my thoughts. Those are dangerous things, ya know.  
  
What awaited me in London was a sharp, strict Aunt that ate like a rabbit, an alcoholic uncle who always smelled and whom I despised, and that cousin that Mom mentioned, Lydia? Ohh Lydia. I shivered when I thought of dealing with china-doll faced Lydia, sweet, intelligent, snobbish Lydia with a knack for making any person feel like an idiot. I must say, it's quite a talent. All the more reason to loathe Lydia Keefer. My father's sister, Aunt Peggy and her family, who moved to England when Uncle Mitchell got a job in the Ministry's Muggle Network, were not a group to be fooled with, and I had no desire to even break into their world. For at least two weeks, how ever, that was just exactly what I was going to be doing. Exactly what I was going to be doing in gray, soggy London, with no one but my self and my over-worked Dad. And every other freak that called London home. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against London and it's people, but I was never planning on becoming one of them, and frankly, I don't want to. I don't belong here, I thought, my emotions and dramas springing up from hiding again.  
  
"Would you like a soda?" Miss Perma-Smile was here again, though I noticed the smiled wasn't nearly as warm now. It must have really hurt her to smile like that, though something went wrong last time I mentioned it. "No thanks," I grumbled. The speakers crackled overhead as Perma-Smile made her way up the row again. "We are an hour out of London, crew! Please strap into your seatbelts!" a far too jolly pilot announced. What, shouldn't we be drinking tea now? I thought dryly, before realizing I was becoming just as bad as Bee was with the stereotypes. I decided to nap a bit and try to escape my deranged mind, which was beginning to cause more trouble than it needed too. 


	3. London Strikes Out

"Flight 432 has landed at dock 54." the thick British accent boomed over the speakers as I shuffled off the plane among all the passengers that were just so much more important than me that they had to push by. I was actually getting pretty annoyed. _Strike one against London: Too many people_! I thought. I'll write that down later, whenever I get a chance. I thought about the thick little notebook that Bee had given me just before I boarded about nine hours ago. It had blue velvet fabric on the cover and a small silk ribbon to hold your place. Suddenly I wished very much just to check and make sure it will still in my bag. That was the last thing I wanted to lose at this hectic new place. I plopped down on one of those hard, sticky leather seats that are made to provide as little comfort as possible. Dad was getting the luggage.  
  
Not even a week ago I was sitting in my messy room in Oregon, U.S.A., dreaming of my new life at Salem School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with my best friend, Bee. A week ago I had no idea that I was going to move to London with my over-zealous dad and some sort of acceptance to a Wizarding School that was named after a pig. Um...what had happened? I saw Dad coming towards me with our new olive green and leather luggage bags that Mom said "Were just what we needed for our trip!" My spirits crashed, however, when I saw who accompanied Jack Keefer.  
  
"My niece Lucky, my have you grown!" Aunt Peggy had a strained smile plastered on her face, though it wasn't as warm or convincing as Miss Perma- Smile on the plane. She said my name with disdain, (Hey, I already knew it was a stupid name, k?) and I could tell it was a huge effort for her to title me "her niece". Everyone in my family, besides her dear brother, was "second-class" to a lovely, skinny, well-to-do woman living in Great Britain. I recall when she visited us about two years ago and left early because she was not suited to our "lifestyle". Which meant that she thought our house was too small and our friends inferior, and that my Mom, who in her day used to be hot stuff, had gained a bit of weight and let herself slide, was now embarrassing to be around. I had called Aunt Peggy a very bad word then, been grounded for eternity, and hated her ever since.  
  
"Hey Aunt Peggy," I could almost see her flinch at my use of the casual slang term "hey". She primly hugged me, just enough for the blind person to think she actually had affection for me, and me for her. Ugh.  
  
"Lucky," my Dad's cheeks were flushed from happiness as he and Uncle Mitchell stood to the side discussing "Dad" things like stock and stuff. Oh yeah, and his new "honorable" job. I looked to him and finally noticed my evil cousin, standing in her Dad's shadow and observing me with the utter disdain that her mother must have taught her. Dad put his hand on her shoulder and grinned at me. "Honey, do you remember? Lydia went to Hogwarts last year! She'll be on second year now and I'm sure she would just love to tell you about it!" Oh whoop, whoop for joy, I thought darkly. Lydia was going to tell what I didn't know. Was there ever a time she DIDN'T do that?  
  
"Um, okay Dad. That's cool." I watched her smile tightly and knew she must be thinking the same thing as me. _What do I do to deserve this? How did I get stuck with this cousin? _Heh. Maybe we did have something in common. But I wasn't keen on finding out.  
  
"Well Jack, let's get these ol' bags and get a move on!" My massive, beefy uncle spoke up and he pulled a leather bag over his shoulder with a huge, hairy arm. I must say, out of all of the stooges, Uncle Mitchell was the most tolerable for me. For one, he was the only one that hadn't acquired a superior, false British accent. That gave him some points in my book. I tugged on my own bag, eager to get out of here, even if it meant going to the residence of Aunt Peggy. In fact, I just wanted to get out of my life.  
  
We walked down the long, crowded gray painted halls of the huge airport, a motley crew of three fancy Brits at home, a Wizard with a new job but no clue, and a short American that was about to jump out the window. We made it to the front hanging, where Aunt Peggy told us with a starchy sniff that we did not need a taxi, they owned their own sedan. I'm not sure why that was important, but apparently it is some huge Gold Star over here. I just kept silent and followed them through the rainy gray parking lot. Silence was working for me these days. Too bad Dad couldn't get that.  
  
We got to the car and squeezed every unhappy soul inside the four-door. He immediatley got to the painful embarrassing "So, Lydia, how didja like Hogwarts the first time around?" he said with an earnest, cheery grin. Lydia looked surprised that he was really talking to her and paused before answering.  
  
"It was quite fine, Uncle Jack. It was a very lovely place." I fought the urge to roll my eyes at her proper Old British accent and speech, and her raised chin, as if she really had the nerve to act as if she was superior to MY father. He was the one that had just gotten a job at the Ministry!

Which reminded me... "Hey Dad! So, are you like, gonna be Uncle Mitchell's boss now or something? It's a big promotion, right?" The car seemed to freeze. My father's eyes nervously darted back and forth from Uncle Mitchell to me. Uncle Mitchell, who was driving rather risky now, looked like the veins in his neck were going to pop out. Aunt Peggy and Lydia had turned pale.  
  
"Well, heheh...we work in different departments, sweetie." Dad spoke in a small voice. Uncle Mitchell nodded in total agreement and Aunt Peggy, who had regained her composure, narrowed her eyes at me as if I were Satan himself for suggesting such a thing. Uncle Mitchell tried to brighten up an already doomed car by joking that Dad would probably have more work than he did, that was sure, but everyone was already too far in the battle lands to take notice of his valiant attempts. I glanced over at Lydia and noted with pleasure that her sky-high nose was now staring down her shoes, and she was blushing. As evil as it was, I was happy to now know I had one measly arrow against Aunt Peggy and Lydia's nuclear bombs. They lived in Great Britain in a fine Wizard mansion, they went to a fine Wizard school, but me-I had the Dad that bossed them around. And however low and pathetic I should have felt for this revelation, I didn't. I sat back in my seat and enjoyed the icy, quiet ride to the house.  
  
"Your room is up the stairs to the left and third door on the right." Lydia said haughtily. I'm sure she would be glad to get me out of her sight. I lugged my new bag, which was already getting worn on the bottom, up the carpeted walnut staircase. I should have been thankful to be staying in such a nice place for my landing in London, but the extravagant two-story apartment in an upper-class building where there were real valets and desk clerks all the time only humbled my little West Coast girl nature. I trudged up the stairs, which were much longer and more tedious than mine, thinking about the events so far. I had made our relatives and hosts quite pissed, and my Dad now said that I would not be getting any new robes. Of course, I knew this was only a threat, because I had no robes in the first place and my parent's would be distraught to send their daughter off to this "dream place" without proper uniform. I reached the landing and heaved a big breath. What did she say? Up...to the...right, three doors on the left? That sounded right, so I dragged my suitcase down the right hall. Third door. I was so eager to close myself in my new sanctuary, curl up on the queen-sized, silk-cushioned bed that was a staple in each room of the house, and open up the blue velvet journal to let my creative juices flow. Oh, and I could take a bath in my new private bathroom. I was grinning by the time I reached for the doorknob to my new room.  
  
I breathed deeply. "Welcome to my new...LINEN CLOSET?!" I shrieked. I dropped my bag and stared in disbelief. It was. It was a walk-in linen closet, with royal blue and lavender fluffy towels stacked to the ceilings and cream- colored sheets in categorized shelves. No queen size bed. No private bath. Of course, the satin sheets were in good supply. I curled my fists into a ball. I was fuming. Lydia had led me to a CLOSET! Some little angel she is, just wait 'till I tell Dad and Aunt Peggy...I was muttering mumbo jumbo to myself as I descended the stairs in a rush, nearly tripping over myself and falling down the whole fancy flight. In the spacey kitchen, Dad and the evil relatives themselves were enjoying a cup of tea. I wanted to puke. Strike Two, London!  
  
Lydia watched me come down and raised her blond eyebrow on her smooth, china doll face, her light blue eyes questioning my sudden explosion into the room. As if that "angel" didn't know. I pointed to her like a crime investigator that has found its culprit.  
  
"My room?! Some room!! You are a real jokester Lydia, a gold star for you!! Why I-"  
  
"Lucky!" My Aunt was now standing up across the small tea table, her willow- like but tall figure dominating the room. "Lucky, WHAT is the meaning of this? You come bursting into the room and yell at my daughter for no apparent reason in MY household?" her eyes were flashing and burning with angry, and I knew she relished this moment. She had probably been on her toes waiting for the second when she good really get at me. But I had the justified argument here.  
  
"She," I jabbed my finger in the direction of Lydia, who was managing pretty well to look confused and innocent. "She, Lydia, told me where my room was. She said 'Up the stairs, to the right, three doors and on the left.'" I shot what I hoped was a venomous look in her direction. "Well, up, to the right, and three doors on the left is a LINEN CLOSET!" I folded my arms and fought the urge to smile. I knew I had Aunt Peggy. But Lydia had stood up now as well, her pale white skin flushed with her own anger.  
  
"THAT'S because I told you upstairs, to the LEFT, and three doors on the RIGHT you nitwit!! Listen why don't you and stop being so stubborn!" She was jabbing her own, long spindly fingers at me and her red face looked about to burst. Her baby blue eyes were watering and her voice had cracked with all the yelling she was doing. This was not acting that Lydia was doing, I realized as the color drained from my own face and I felt faint. She was right. I was wrong. I had just stomped down someone else's stairs and yelled at that someone else that was letting me live in their house. I had just proven my ugly Aunt right about me. I had just embarrassed myself and my father. I had just made my cool, calm, porcelain doll cousin explode with anger that I had never seen her unleash before. I had ruined my two-week stay in London with my family.  
  
Crap.  
  
The room was heavy with silence, the same icy, wretched kind of silence that had filled the car this afternoon. Except I wasn't relishing this one. I hung my head, knowing absolutely that I, Lucky Jessica Keefer, had been defeated and should take the beating I am owed. I was suddenly intent on my scratched, muddy mules. No one moved. Aunt Peggy was the first to make a noise, which was, (surprise) a sniff of her ever-present disdain. It was so much worse to hear now, because now she had an ample supply of "Bad Lucky" to work with, a sturdy reason to despise her niece. I guess she's the one who gets the "Gold Star".  
  
"Well." She said, her voice shaking with drama. "Well, well. It seems that Lucky has made a mistake that she had acted upon too soon," I swear I could hear the joy in her voice as she called out her silly, stupid niece, me. "So I think it is only proper for you to apologize to Lydia, and perhaps think about toning down your insolent and angry behavior and following my daughter Lydia's example. Now, that, I'll presume, will begin with Lydia escorting you to the, erm, correct room."  
  
I wanted to cry. _Following Lydia's example? Should I follow her snobby, superior, ways, should I assume my own fake British accent? I wanted to scream. Who's insolent here? Me or you, you who can hardly bear to look at your "commoner" niece?! _But I didn't say any of it. I couldn't. Not with my Dad staring at me in utter horror. I saw him shake his head, probably wondering where he went wrong with someone like me, why I really had to come on this trip with him, probably regretting me all together. I bent my head again and felt the tears try to sneak up and flow, but I would die before letting anyone see me cry. They were tears or embarrassment anyway.  
  
"Do you understand, Lucky? You will answer me always when I speak to you."  
  
And like a servant, I nodded and said 'Yes Ma'am, I am sorry' before once again trekking up those cursed stairs after my smug cousin. She led me wordlessly down the correct hall and to the correct door, where, just as expected, there was a queen size bed with a lavender canopy and cream- colored sheets, just like the ones in the closet. And my bathroom was right next-door, with lavender plush towels just like in the closet. I muttered 'Thanks, sorry' just like an obedient little girl and watched her glide off back down the stairs, probably to continue discussing with her wicked mother how much of a problem child I really was. I closed the door and threw myself on the bed, wanting so badly for Bee, even for my Mom and my sister. I just wanted home. A tear escaped my eye and raced down my cheek as I curled up in the soft sheets. Rain pattered outside my windows, making it's own dreary lullaby. Outside the city streets screamed and whistled with busy Londoners. Downstairs, my Aunt and Uncle tsk tsked over the awful Lucky Jessica Keefer. I was never more alone in my twelve years than I have been in London in my first two hours.  
  
Strike Three. London's out.


	4. Bars and Purple Fudge

"We are going to go to Flourence Giotti's Robe Shoppe. They are Italian designers. The best." This was Lydia's opening statement to me at the breakfast table as she whisked in wearing a pink plaid schoolgirl skirt with a white blouse and her hair back in prim pink clips.  
  
"Who, Flourence or Giotti?" I said after gulping down my bite of croissant. She paused, looking absolutely pain-stricken that she must try to explain things to me.  
  
With an added dramatic sigh, she explained to the simpleton from America, me. "Flourence Giotti was the famed Italian designer. He established FG in 1540, it's all over the Wizard world," she explained quickly, glad to get that over with.  
  
I nearly choked on my croissant. "1540? And this dude's styles are popular?" Lydia stared at me, her blue eyes piercing mine and her face slowly growing red. She huffed and spun on her pink bejeweled heel, clicking out of the room angrily. I was obviously a hopeless case in her eyes. This wasn't this first time I had been treated like a total idiot this morning, I angrily recalled as I gulped my milk. I had been awed by the nice meal set out for us this morning, and knowing it could certainly not be my evil aunt, I had innocently inquired after it. Aunt Peggy had given me a blank stare, and after an uncomfortable silence, she muttered "The house elves. Of course." Rather stiffly, then performed a "Lydia", spinning and clicking out of the room. _Of course, why didn't I, the stupid 12-year old new American witch know that? I must really be an idiot!! _I thought sarcastically. Clunking my empty milk glass down on the table, I stomped up the stairs to ready myself for the visit to this really cool dead designer's place. Ugh.  
  
"You are wearing that?" Lydia spoke in a disgusted whisper, her eyebrow raised in it's infinite arch of disapproval. I had just come downstairs to the front hall to see her waiting for me, anticipating her chance to eye me with disapproval. I gave her a nasty look and pushed past her to the door. She was the last thing I needed to deal with right now. Besides, when was a tee and some cute jeans not okay? I sighed as I trudged down the gravel path to the car in the drizzles of morning rain. I took my spot in the car to wait for the whole charade to prance out. Aunt Peggy was last to make her appearance, coming out fully decked in a chinchilla fur lined suede coat and a black silk blouse.  
  
"Now Lucky," she sniffed as she loaded into the sedan. "Seeing as you have not been to Diagon Alley before, it is absolutely necessary that you stay with Lydia or I during the whole trip." She said slowly, as if it was going to be super hard for me to understand all this. I rolled my eyes at the window and controlled my urge to jump out of the car and run through the torrents of rain that had suddenly begun to fall upon us this morning. Spend the whole day tagging along with the evil relatives? My dream. This was looking ever more depressing each second.  
  
"Okay Aunt Peggy"  
  
For some reason she seemed to find my response offensive, but fortunately did not decide to pursue it. Uncle Mitchell started up the car and we were off for Diagon Alley.

* * *

"Um...is this it?" I spoke warily. Uncle Mitchell had just parked the car next to an old, dilapidated bar with a sign reading "Leaky Cauldron". It really was in shambles. A cat hissed annoyingly as we passed it on the narrow, creaking stoop. Uncle Mitchell opened the door with more care than I have ever seen him use, probably scared that the whole termite-ridden thing would fall off under his grip. Against my better judgment, I giggled. Aunt Peggy shot me a dark look that probably could have shriveled the sun. I returned it and she gasped. As gratifying as that was, I knew I would have to pay for it later.  
  
"This is not Diagon Alley," Lydia explained coldly, though I knew she was relishing my stupid questions. "This is Leaky Cauldron!"  
  
_Ohhh...as if that explained everything! _I shook my head with frustration, wondering why we would even be at this old lousy bar and how it could ever connect with where we were supposed to be going.  
  
"'Ello thar Mr. Keefer, Mr. Starkforth!" an old, wheezing bartender hailed us as we stepped in. Wait...had he recognized MY father? Mr. Keefer, he definitely had said it! Aunt Peggy seemed equally as surprised, yet my father just nodded and murmured a 'hello' back as if it was totally normal. I looked to him for an answer but it wasn't coming; he just was his normal, jolly self as we walked through the shifty bar.  
  
"Jack Keefer! Long time, no see!" A sharp looking man in a purple (no kidding) business suit stood to shake hands with my father. He had a wide smile on his face. Whaa? What is going on here? I was in a whirlwind of confusion now. I glanced at my Aunt and Uncle, but their eyes were as wide as saucers and Aunt Peggy was grinning like an idiot. I looked back at this purple guy for an answer to...this. He grinned as he pumped my father's hand and moved onto Uncle Mitchell.  
  
"So Fudge, here to get prepped for the new school year, are you?" My dad chuckled and asked him like a good old college pal or something.  
  
"Of course! But actually," the Purple Fudge looked around and lowered his voice. "Actually, there is some very important business going on with the school this year..."  
  
"Oh?" Aunt Peggy interests were instantly perked as she automatically leaned in like everyone else in the party.  
  
"Yes, yes indeed!" I could tell Purple Fudge was relishing the importance of his little "gossip" piece or whatever it was. "See, I don't need to remind you about, you know, the Potters?" Every face in the circle turned solemn as they all eagerly nodded, confirming they knew the "Potters." Even Lydia nodded, probably feeling very grown-up about herself. I stared blankly. This better all come together soon.  
  
"Yes, well, you know about their son of course, Harry?" This was met with more eager nods of interest. "Yes, well, he has been living with his Aunt and Uncle for the past eleven years you know. Well, he is attending Hogwarts this year, and well," he continued, hiking up his trousers with a sense of importance, "We just have to make sure that everything runs smoothly during the transition and all." He winked and both Uncle Mitchell and my Dad nodded with understanding. Lydia and Aunt Peggy were gaping with wonder at this news as I still tried to piece it all together. Who. Were. The. Potters. The question kept circulating in my head, getting louder with each knowledgeable and annoying nod from my relatives. I gritted my teeth and suddenly I hated this stupid Leaky Cauldron shack. I wanted to shut up this Purple Mr. Importance and get my stupid zombie family out of here.  
  
"Well, heh, I don't know who the Potters are, what happened with them, or why this Harry guy is so important." I spoke loudly, just in case it couldn't penetrate the zombies. They all suddenly looked at me as if this was the first time they had ever set eyes on me. _Um yes, hello, I am Lucky Keefer, daughter of Jack Keefer. Oh yes, I have been with the four of you this whole time! Can you believe it?_ I thought, fuming. Aunt Peggy actually looked embarrassed when I spoke. I couldn't believe it. She put her hands on my shoulders and smiled like a crocodile with a toothache.  
  
"Oh, yes, Cornelius, this is my niece, Lucky." She laughed apologetically. "She lived in the United States, hasn't really, you know, learned the wizarding world yet." Her smile threatened to crack her face. My dad chuckled nervously as I pushed out of her arms.  
  
"I'm not an idiot, that's what she means." I spoke ruefully. Aunt Peggy gasped and paled. Lydia's eyes widened fearfully. "I am from the U.S., and yeah, I don't know to much about our history, but I can bet you there are a lot of wizards out there who don't know a thing about _Harry Potter _either!" I spit his name and waited for what Fudgy would say. Aunt Peggy's ghastly face had quickly taken a turn and now looked like a tomato. Lydia and Uncle Mitchell looked mortified, but my Dad...he actually looked bemused. So did Purple Fudge.  
  
"Oh I am sure as well. No apologies or excuses needed!" he spoke finally, a twinkle in his eye suggesting he knew exactly what I was going through. I relaxed a bit. Aunt Peggy, on the other hand, was battling with herself. I had just been totally rude and undermining to her, but Fudgy was fine with it. He actually had taken my side, if anything. I felt like laughing, and I knew my dark look at the doorstep would go unnoticed now. Much less tense, I grinned back at Fudgy.  
  
"My name is Lucky Keefer, I am going to be a first year at, er, Hogwarts."  
  
Fudgy smiled brightly. "Oh, well that is good, perhaps you and Harry will be getting along then?" he grinned at our dejected party. I seriously doubted whether this Harry guy and I were going to be best of pals, though when he said I couldn't help noticing that Lydia looked like it would be an absolute dream to even know him.  
  
"Erm, yeah, that would be pretty cool." I smiled with what I hoped what sincerity. Aunt Peggy chuckled and patted my shoulder as if she just adored her sweet little nice. Humph. _Being nice now, are we? _I thought. My Dad smiled and nodded.  
  
"Well Cornelius, I hope you have luck with your project, I doubt anything could go wrong. In the meanwhile, we have to bring my daughter to her first visit at Diagon Alley!" Way to go Dad. He had just been successful in making ,me sound like a little child. I shook my head, but Cornelius didn't seem to mind.  
  
"Ah! I remember my first visit!" he winked at my father. He had been doing that a lot. My Dad grinned again like a zombie. I couldn't resist it and rolled my eyes.  
  
Somehow we escaped Fudgy and made our way to the back of the bar. A rusted door led out to the garbage, which was surrounded by a brick wall. I was about to cry in confusion. What is going on? First a crappy old bar, then the garbage bins in the back?? And now, my Dad was tapping the bricks in the wall?? I folded my arms and watched. Yeah, it was clear; my family had lost their mind.  
  
Wait...was I losing my mind too? I blinked. The bricks were not moving. They couldn't be. But...they were. I watched in complete awe as the bricks clicked back methodically and slowly opened up a larger and larger hole. They stopped; a huge gap had formed in the gray brick wall and on the other side shops were lined on a narrow cobbled street, squashed against each other with hardly room to spare. The cobbled streets bustled with the excited activity of...wizards.  
  
"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Lucky." Uncle Mitchell grinned. I realized my mouth hung open and I quickly shut it, and somehow managed to move.  
  
"Wow" I breathed. "This is...pretty cool." I smiled. My Dad laughed and suddenly I remembered. "Hey dad, who was that guy? In the purple suit?"  
  
"Who, Cornelius?" he furrowed his eyebrows. "He's Cornelius Fudge, the Head of the Ministry." I stopped in my path.  
  
"The Head of the Ministry? And you...aren't angry with me for...talking like that?" my Dad looked confused for a second before laughing again.  
  
"No honi, that's fine. He seemed to like you." He patted my back, a show of affection that usually would have been cheesy and annoying to me, but instead I was thankful for his motion.  
  
"Jack! Lucky!" Aunt Peggy motioned for us to follow them. I could hardly see her in the pushing and rushing pack of wizards.  
  
"We have to get you together...wand, robes, broom!" My Dad shook his head. I was grinning from ear to ear. I knew this was cheesy, this was silly, but I was finally so ecstatic about this whole going to Hogwarts thing that I just let if flow.  
  
Maybe London's back in the game. Maybe. 


	5. Beware, Hogwarts

Dear Bumble Bee-  
  
It rains a lot here, my Aunt and cousin suck, and I am so confused. But really, it isn't all that bad. Don't rip up this letter, believe me, this still is your sardonic, pessimistic BFF Lucky speaking. It's just the sardonic, pessimistic Lucky that went to visit Diagon Alley. Sorry Bee, this place can't be explained in any of your brochures and books. I can't even be trusted with explaining it as great as it is! I got all my school stuff today, books, robes, blah- the real thing was my wand. It is a 10- inch black walnut with mulberry, and it has unicorn hair. One of a kind, the shopkeeper said, very fine. Lydia snottily told me that he said that to everyone, and I told her to...um, well anyway, I got it in trouble, but soo worth it. I was supposed to get a cat today, like "the rest of the family" (like I want to be like them anyway! Besides, look at Melody's psycho cat...do I really want that??) but I managed to talk my Dad into an owl instead. You should have seen the look on Aunt Peggy's face when I won him over. She just about died. I ended up getting spotted owl that I named Fangorn. Haha. I knew you wouldn't like that name. Just don't show it, because Fang will be delivering this letter to you. Give him a nice good rest and everything while he's there!  
  
Anyways, I got some robes, they weren't bad, really. I got way too many books and a big fat cauldron. Dad got me some "Bernie Bott's Every Flavored Beans" and told me to watch out. I'm not sure what he meant by that, but some of these beans are pretty disgusting. I miss you more that the butter misses the fly; you have to come visit my rainy cold paradise soon. I'll write to you weekly, so you have no choice but to answer me. And Fang better come back with a fat letter from you!  
  
LYLAS and all that jazz,  
Lucky

I looked over the letter a few more times in the cozy cushions of my desk chair. Fanghorn quietly stroked his feathers in his new iron rod traveling cage beside the desk. I was glad to have an owl. Not only would this pet be useful, but he was creating amusing ruckus around the house with Aunt Peggy and Lydia. Aunt Peggy was running about with her dustbin glued to her hand, muttering feverishly about bird droppings. Lydia was practically paranoid as she carried around her two-ton ugly orange tabby, as if she were afraid Fang would eat the darned thing.  
  
Laughing, I gave Fang another treat. I liked this guy already. I rolled my parchment up and tied it with a pretty red ribbon that I had stolen from Lydia. Let's see if she notices. I tied it masterfully (if I do say so myself) to Fang's leg, and sent him off into the quiet velvet blue night. For the first time since my arrival, the rain had ceased and a clear blue night full of twinkling stars was beaconing outside my window. I left the window open after Fang left, liking the warm breeze that wafted in. Curling up in my canopy queen bed, I for once felt at peace with the world. Then again, the world was asleep right now, all off-duty from the Lucky Bugging Patrol. That's the way I liked it.

* * *

  
"Lucky, if you do not get up and ready yourself within the next thirteen minutes, we will leave without you!" Aunt Peggy's shrill voice rang through my brittle door, threatening me with pleasure. I groaned in reply and heaved myself out of bed. Breakfast would have to be skipped for me, but Lydia had mentioned those snack carts on the train, so that wouldn't be a problem. I pulled on the grotesque outfit that Aunt Peggy had laid out for me. Usually I would have given up a fight worth remembering, but right now, I would have worn my underwear to the train station if it meant finally going. Finally going to Hogwarts. Finally getting away from 1342 Pemberley Court. Finally getting away from Dear Aunt Peggy. Of course, the problem of Lydia would still have to be dealt without, but hopefully I wouldn't see her much, since she was going to be a year ahead and all. Even that seemed unlikely though. I knew I would always be under Lydia's scrutinizing eye as long as we went to the same school, lived in the same country. But why care? After all, this was hopefully my last stay for a long time at 1342 Pemberley Court.  
  
I am such a pro. In a matter of four minutes, I had dressed, tamed my muddy brown hair into a decent ponytail, and collected my already packed bags and nervous owl downstairs. I remembered what Bee had said in the letter that had arrived two days ago; "Friends next door or friends across the sea, you can always count on your little Bumble Bee!" laughing at her lame but cute poetry, I sprang into the kitchen for a bite of toast.  
  
"Luuuccckkkyyyyyy!" My Aunt's voice rang through the house from the foyer where her challenging figure was looming menacingly.  
  
"I'm right here, Aunty!" I said with a grin as I rushed back into the hall and grabbed my bags and owl. She hurriedly stepped aside for the passing of Fang, warily watching my bird with disgust.  
  
"Could you please hold Fang, Aunt Peggy? I can barely carry my things." I said sweetly, smiling and looking sorry. Her eyes widened as she stared at the animal she loathed.  
  
"Well perhaps I'll just take your large bag here..."  
  
"Erm, no, that's impossible to reach right now, under all my other bags!" I shoved the handle to Fang's cage into her open palm and watched her fluster. How amusing.  
  
We managed, somehow, to get five people, a cat the size of a person, and an unnerved bird into the car and to the station. Some of us emerged with well earned cat scratches and bird pecks, but all was good. We were at the London Train Station, headed for Hogwarts.  
  
In my grotesque black jumper and frilly white blouse, I proudly marched in the direction of nine and three quarters. I could feel Lydia on my heels, trying to keep up with me. No chance, Lydia my cousin. I don't have to pretend to like you anymore! I picked up my pace and was practically jogging when I reached Platform 9. Turning, I saw Lydia smirking at me.  
  
"Nine and three quarters," she said with an annoying, know-it-all tone. "Is there!" she pointed and my eyes eagerly followed the path...to a column. A tan brick column, the width of about three me's, was exactly the point she had recognized. I turned to her, my brow furrowed. I had been tricked enough by her "give a little info now, save some for later" crap. I smiled sweetly, it was quite an effort.  
  
"So, why don't you go ahead and get there, I'll wait for the rest." I said compromisingly.  
  
"Oh, I'll wait with you!" she said peppily, her blue eyes dancing. I bet you will, I thought, but didn't say anything. I couldn't wait to get away from her stalking thin figure and straight white teeth, her smooth blond hair and dermatologist's dream skin. It was sickening.  
  
"Okay girls!" my dad had luckily (ha) come to save my day. He rubbed his palms together eagerly. "Here's how it goes, Lucky." He pointed to the same wretched column. Is this some kind of joke? "You are gonna go ahead and just walk right through there, don't worry now, it's all okay, you're supposed to." _Naw, really Dad? _I thought, becoming quickly annoyed. _Anytime people wanted to stop treating me like the Village Idiot, feel free_! I nodded slowly at Dad.  
  
"I've got it. It isn't rocket science." I cut in. My Dad nodded sheepishly. In truth, I was actually becoming pretty nervous. Here I was, as conspicuous as anything with my huge, hooting nervous owl and a mountain of luggage, and I was expected to casually walk through a wall. No pressure, now was there?  
  
Lydia was thoroughly enjoying herself. "You can go ahead first Lucky, it will probably help." Oh yeah, and you are just all about help, aren't you Lydia? I wanted to retort. But I had learned my limits. Besides, Uncle Mitchell did my job for me.  
  
"Well, it's best to just get it over with, isn't it? Why Lydia was sobbin' and cryin' she was so nervous about it."  
  
Lydia blushed furiously and shot her Dad an evil eye, which he didn't catch. Grinning, I begin to strut towards the column. This should feel weird, I thought as I took my first step into the column. I closed my eyes and felt what was like cool, smooth water running over me. When I opened them, I was staring at a gleaming red engine with hundreds of cars. The same wizards I saw bustling through Diagon Alley were now bidding their children farewell. Owls hooted and cats hissed. I smiled to myself with relief, when a sudden push on my back sent me almost tumbling to the floor.  
  
"Watch it Lucky, this is like, a main thoroughfare!" Lydia rolled her eyes with annoyance at me. I was about to say something biting back when Uncle Mitchell and Aunt Peggy surfaced through the bricks, followed by a marveled Jack Keefer.  
  
"Wonderful, isn't it?" he said to me, his eyes shining. "We are a bit late, so I can't hold you too long, but I just want to say how proud your Mom and I are of you and how much we love you." Afraid that I wouldn't be able to think up such a cheesy line, I just nodded and hugged my dad tightly. A shrill whistle that shattered my eardrums was sounded behind us, and in one fluid movement a mass of young witches and wizards moved towards the train.  
  
"C'mon Lucky, we must find ourselves a car in the train." Lydia pulled on my shirt impatiently, obviously being put up to this by her parents. With a last smile and wave I said goodbye to Dad and heaved my assortment of bags and birdies onto the train. Lydia was already halfway through the train by the time I was properly on board.  
  
"Here!" she called to me, annoyance dripping from her words. I purposely moved very slowly. When I reached the car she had reluctantly directed me too, I was crestfallen to find two Lydia-look-alikes watching me with interest like I was today's lab specimen.  
  
"Lucky, this is Olivia," she gestured to a willowy pale girl with emerald green eyes and ebony hair. "And this is Hailey," she gestured to the shorter girl at the other side of the cabin, who had dirty blond hair and an exquisitely beautiful face. I nodded to both of them. Olivia had a suddenly pained look, as if a terrible odor had just reached her nose, but Hailey seemed indifferent to me and continued reading her _Hogwarts, A History_. "I don't know how I am going to cram this all in for the starting exam!" she murmured as she flipped through the pages.  
  
Olivia ignored her, instead focusing her attention on Lydia. Her voice was the same flimsy wail as her thin body. "Lydia, she's a first year, right?" she said, glancing at me as if she were worried I would see her talking about me. _Um hello? _I thought furiously. She looked at me again with a supposedly sympathetic look, like I was some dejected homeless girl. I gritted my teeth.  
  
"Yes, Livvie, I told you," Lydia said. I was surprised by the impatience in her tone as she talked to the snotty raven-haired girl. "Mum and Pop told me to keep her with me." She explained in a quick, soft voice. Anger welled up inside me again. I could hardly stand it. I would not be able to deal with a whole train ride in a cabin with these people. My hopes of getting away from Lydia while at school were still afloat and I would not let them perish.  
  
"I'm going to go find the snack cart." I said sharply, standing up so quickly that I bumped my head and nearly toppled over again from the jolts of the traveling train.  
  
"It doesn't come by for another forty minutes at least." Lydia sneered. Being with Olivia really brought out the demon inside of her.  
  
"Then I'll go find it!" I said, taking hold of my big bag and dragging it to the door. I heard Olivia mutter 'Taking your bags?' though she looked positively delighted that I should be leaving now. On my way out I heard a satisfying whimper from her as I crushed her toes in the path of my bag. Hah.  
  
So, now I am out here in a narrow hall with nowhere to go. I stared bleakly down the naked aisles and frowned. What have I gotten myself into? Sighing with the discovery of my stupidity, I slowly begin to trudge down the aisle, trying to balance myself against the rumbling jerks of the train. Near the end of the car, I found an empty cabin, much to my delight. The hinges of the door were cracked so it could not be moved, but nevertheless, I had found home for the next few hours. Thankfully unloading my loathsome luggage, I plopped onto a scratchy seat near the window. By nightfall I would be at Hogwarts. I was itching for it's arrival.  
  
"Oh, er, I'm sorry, I..." I jerked my head to the broken doorway and saw a girl my age, of medium height, with gorgeous strawberry blonde hair nearing her waist and gray eyes. She was observing me in confusion, her sentence trailing off.  
  
"Hello." I spoke simply, watching her with curiosity. She seemed surprised for some reason and remained at her position in the door well.  
  
"Hello. Well, I guess I have a cabin partner then!" she said lightly, though she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding her surprise. I blushed, the situation suddenly dawning on me. I hadn't taken an empty cabin. Instinctively I looked overhead and saw a singular luggage carrier. Her luggage. Embarrassed and now as awkward as she, I stuttered myself.  
  
"Oh sorry, I didn't know this was occupied, I'll being moving along then—"  
  
"Oh no!" she said, now inside the cabin. "All the other ones are surely full now anyway, and well, it can get boring on such long trips, company would be nice," she said shyly. She sat on the cushion across from me and held out her hand. "My name is Kylie Brennan. First year." She said proudly.  
  
"Oh...oh, I'm Lucky Keefer." Her eyes widened at the mention of my name.  
  
"Lucky? That is truly your name? Why, how delightful!" she said with a smile. Even though this kind of thing usually reached me with annoyance, I decided that Kylie was probably sincere and smiled back.  
  
"Yeah. Oh yeah it's just super." I said sarcastically. To my pleasant surprise, she seemed to understand my humor and giggled.  
  
"So, then you are a first year too. What house you reckon you'll be in?" she said abruptly. Her eyebrows were wiggling with curiosity. I frowned; I hadn't really considered it, although Lydia had told me plenty about it.  
  
"I guess I'll be Ravenclaw. My cousin says that everyone in our family has always naturally been made for that House. Every Keefer has." I said, recalling her long-winded speech on the Ravenclaw qualities that we Keefer's possess. Kylie nodded enthusiastically.  
  
"Yes, families usually will naturally go into the same house, because they share quite a few of the same qualities. Though in my family, with all the different crazy people we have, I have absolutely no idea where I'll be going! Hufflepuff or Gryffindor would be my best guesses, Ma and Pa are Hufflepuffs but my whole Ma's family are proud Gryffindors. It's exciting to guess, no?" she said in her very quick, anxious voice. I nodded obediently, somewhat at awe of the eccentric Kylie Brennan.  
  
"Lydia, my cousin," I explained quickly "Says that each House chooses according to qualities or something..." before I could complete my question, Kylie had jumped on it.  
  
"Oh yes, Hufflepuffs are good, honest workers. Gryffindors are brave. Ravenclaws are intelligent and cunning. Slytherin are...um..." she looked absoultley crestfallen that she could not supply the immediate answers. "Well, you won't be Slytherin anyway, I seriously doubt so, therefore we don't need to worry about that." She amended. I simply nodded again. Kylie seemed sure of her time here at Hogwarts. If only I was.  
  
"You...you are American, correct?" she said timidly. I wondered why she was so timid, I wasn't likely to take offense.  
  
"Yeah, I am. Completely new to all this." I said with a grin. Her eyes lit up.  
  
"Oh! It's super fun, from what I hear! Welcome!" she said with renewed energy. She looked down at the small bag that she had been carrying the whole time and pulled out a textbook. "I can't wait for some of these classes, as nerdy as that sounds!" she held up the black leather book "This one, Defense Against the Dark Arts, sounds so--"  
  
A sharp knock on the sliding glass stopped her praise. I wasn't sure why is was necessary to knock on a broken, hanging open door, but the young girl with fizzy brown hair and slightly large front teeth did so.  
  
"Sorry to bother you, I am looking for something. A missing frog, actually. It is Neville Longbottom's." she said informatively, as if reading off of a card. I shook my head at the stranger. "No frog here." I said simply. She seemed to be confused by my lack of a British accent but didn't say anything. She had suddenly turned her attention on Kylie.  
  
"That is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook, right?" she queried. Kylie looked up, surprised.  
  
"Yes, yes it is. I think the class will be fascinating." She said with growing confidence. The frizzy-brown haired girl nodded eagerly and sat on the edge of Kylie's seat.  
  
"Yes, I do think so too!" she spoke, a bit to eagerly for my taste. "I have read all my books over the summer, thoroughly!" she added. I wondered just who she was trying to impress. I can't wait for the first day!" Then, as if surprised with herself, she suddenly jumped and turned to face me as well.  
  
"So sorry for not introducing myself. I am Hermoine Granger, first year." She said. She reached out her hand just as Kylie had done and we both shook it. Hermoine remarked on Fanghorn's prettiness, giggled at his name, shared her wealth of knowledge on the process of sorting, then she was off in the sharp and demanding flurry that she had come in. Already exhausted with the day, I leaned back in my seat and noticed with excitement that the snack cart had come.  
  
"Oh my am I starving!" Kylie said, reaching into her pocket for a bag of money. I noticed her beginning to count through her assortment of Galleons and Sickles and cleared my throat.  
  
"Err, Kylie, I'm not quite sure yet how to, um...use this money." I said, holding up my own stash of wizarding gold that Dad had given me this morning.  
  
"No worries, I'll count it out for you! Just pick what you want!" I nodded thankfully, and, steering clear of the every flavored beans, I picked out as many chocolate frogs, pumpkin cakes, and every other god-knows-what that I could get. Settling back contently in my chair as the cart rolled away, I sighed and begin to feel drowsy. I pushed away a few of my things and stretched out on my cushion. "Just a quick nap, I'll be up soon..." I murmured to Kylie, who nodded respectfully. I drifted into dreams of Sorting Hats and Houses.  


* * *

"Lucky?" I felt a timid tug on my shoulder. Groggily, I opened my eyes. It was dark all around me except for the wide gray eyes that reflected the moon as they stared at me with excitement. I looked out the window and saw a huge, looming castle with lights twinkling like diamonds from every hanging. I took a sharp breath.  
  
"Lucky...we're at Hogwarts!" Kylie squealed and pulled on me more forcefully now. I jumped up, catching on to her excitement, and picked up my bags. Fang hooted indignantly. With some effort, we managed to get our bags down and out the chilly, clear autumn night. I immediately saw Lydia standing among her posse, ready to go onto what looked like horseless carriages. She smirked as I approached her and nodded in the other direction. "First years' go that way." She pointed towards the still black lake, looking ominous and intimidating in the night. I shrugged carelessly and walked that way instead, with Kylie at my heels. Nothing could bring me down right now.  
  
"Furst years! Ov'r 'ere!" rang out a deep, gruff voice. My eyes widened as I took in the massive figure looming before me. A giant in a deep green trench coat with hair that looked as though it could swallow me whole was calling out for the new arrivals. Others, just as terrified as I was at first glance, gathered around slowly.  
  
"Now, yer be takin' the lake by boat. Furst year tradition." He said. His voice was surprisingly calm and nice for such an intimdating figure. He smiled over us as if we were his little children, before hustling us off towards the old, mildewed wood boats.  
  
"Some tradition," I grumbled towards Kylie as we stepped into our own dangerously old boat. She laughed quietly and took some oars. Sighing, I took my own. I could see the magical palace off across the lake and I sighed with anticipation.  
  
Beware Hogwarts-here comes Lucky. 


End file.
